One of the greatest benefits of being involved in running events in the uplands is that you are constantly discovering areas of the country you have never seen before. This was true a few weeks ago when I went down to the Beacons for the Brecon Beacons fell race. Although I have been up Pen Y Fan and the surrounding peaks several times, the race approached them from the east, over hills I had never looked at twice before. In a similar way, the Source of the Severn race showed me a great route through the forest at the end of the valley where I live. You can always find new adventures close to home!
Orienteering takes this to a whole new level – and introduces you to such detailed navigation that even mountains you know well will suddenly reveal previously undiscovered streams, knolls, or incredible views from wild slopes. It is also a way of seeing parts of the country you have never seen before, and discovering those same unique aspects of hills that even the locals won’t have been to.
It was in this way that I found myself in the Shropshire Hills AONB last Saturday for an orienteering event, the Long Mynd Long O. The Long Mynd is the wide area of raised moorland, described as ‘flat on top’ by one of the marshals, but containing steep drops and cut valleys that definitely felt more like mountain slopes. The mini ridges and furrows running down to the stream beds gave a feeling like a mini-Switzerland, and the views from the heights over Church Stretton and the hills further east were spectacular.
I was doing the Long O as practice for the next weekend’s Rab Mountain Marathon, and was planning to take it easy. There were three courses, names ‘Long’, ‘Longer’ and ‘Longest’. I did the longest, wanting a nice day out with some good time for refreshing navigation. Distances though, unlike standard running races, are far more difficult to predict the time for. At 17.2k, the longest course as a fell run may have taken 1.5 hours. My experience for orienteering is to double the time.
Nevertheless, the fact that you are on your own, left with the time to navigate, out in the hills for as long as you want, does give orienteering that extra bit of adventure. The paths and trails of the Long Mynd took me over hills, down into quiet valleys via fern-soaked hillsides. Trying to take a short-cut I was reduced to fighting my way downhill through thick ferns and heather. Every few steps I would feel my feet tied up into the foliage as it took hold of me and tried to keep me back. It would have been easier to roll. The uphill slopes were just as steep as any fell race in the Lake District or Snowdonia and where running was possible on these sections, it was at a slow mince, head to the ground.
Later on, hours later, the morning haze that had clung to the valley bottoms had risen and the air was warm. I was nearing the end of the course of 12 checkpoints. The difficulty on this course wasn’t the detailed navigation to get to each point, but the route choices that had to be made to get from point to point. It is these decisions, up and down, or around, north or south, that combine to make an efficient or inefficient route. In this way, orienteering can provide a good experience to get people used to exploring real wilderness, having to make decisions about their tactics and route planning with only the information in front of them, and having to commit to a decision. Sometimes it ends up being less efficient, but you learn, and eventually you arrive at the finish, with an excellent journey behind you.
Feet in the Woods 